


Granny Peg

by alpacamyhedgehog



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, F/M, Grandmothers, Peggy Carter Lives, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), everyone is together and happy again, not necessarily canon compliant, super-powered super-children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacamyhedgehog/pseuds/alpacamyhedgehog
Summary: Life seems to be going well for Peggy Carter, who has been de-aged to her early twenties, but while she's happy to be reunited with the love of her life, she misses the family she had while Steve was gone. Naturally, she ends up adopting an Avenger but her choice is...surprising.





	

Peggy Carter licked her lips as she gazed at the well-muscled archer who was stuffing his face with powdered donuts at the other end of the table.

Uh-oh.

Steve had seen that expression before. It usually meant that she wanted to eat someone alive; he just couldn’t tell in what capacity.

Since a few weeks ago, when he discovered that S.H.I.E.L.D. technology akin to the T.A.H.I.T.I. project that had brought Coulson back to life (Steve still had trouble wrapping his mind around that one) had managed to de-age Peggy to her early 20s, the reunited pair had been inseparable.

She’d even moved into the Avengers Facility with the rest of them, even though Helen’s team of scientists were still running tests to determine if she was physically ready for combat.

Not being allowed to go on missions was driving Peg up a wall--almost literally. She was as antsy as Scott and foolhardy as the spider-boy, minus the super skills...well, Steve hoped she hadn’t gained any new powers during the de-aging process.

She seemed happy enough to make up for lost time with him, but she lived for the Avengers’ morning training sessions, when she got to do target practice, spar with Natasha, and teach Steve a few new combat tricks she’d picked up while he had been a star-spangled popsicle.

This morning, the two of them had arrived at the gym in time to find Hawkeye turning a few target dummies into porcupines.

At first, Peggy had been miffed at finding her spot at the firing range occupied, but her annoyance soon gave way to open-mouthed awe.

Since joining the Avengers, Tony had shown her his suit with the childish pride of the godson she’d always remembered him as, Sam had taken her soaring above the trees surrounding the facility, and she’d even gotten to compare smashing skills with the Other Guy. But Hawkeye had been on leave with his family since she’d arrived, so this was a completely new experience.

She continued to be impressed during breakfast, when she found that he could put away almost as much food as Steve.

“What’s the bird one’s name again? I like him,” she observed to him, her own mouth stuffed full of chocolate donut.

Steve paused halfway through his second plate of eggs and tried to look casual. “Everybody likes Sam.”

“No, not him.” Peggy’s mouth was still full, and she spewed donut crumbs as she spoke. “The other one. The--” she mimed firing arrows from a bow, making _pew, pew_ noises and scattering more crumbs across the table. “That one.”

Steve reached over and gently collected the crumbs in one hand, which he dusted off over her plate.

“That’s Clint.” Then he added with a joking grin, “Should I be jealous?”

He was 97% confident that she’d enjoyed being back with him as much as he loved being around her, no matter what age she was.

Still, he was a 98-year old with 31 years of life experience, and she had all her memories since the time he’d been in the ice--decades’ worth of missions, a late husband, children, grandchildren.

Things were bound to be awkward. It was nobody’s fault. And he trusted her to tell him if she was unhappy or uncomfortable with the way things were.

She rolled up her napkin and used it to whack him on the shoulder. “Bloody idiot.”

He would have used the opportunity to fake hurt feelings, but her attention was already directed toward the other end of the table.

“Oi, Clint!” she hollered.

Barton, who had been drowning his umpteenth donut with a pot of black coffee, startled and snorted coffee down the front of his no-longer-clean post-workout shirt. He hacked, spewing even more hot liquid.

With the lazy grace of someone who had done this too often over the past few years, Natasha reached over and pounded his back until he stopped coughing, then handed him a few napkins so he could clean himself up.

“Aw, coffee,” Clint muttered, before remembering he was supposed to reply to Peggy. “Ma’am--uh. Ms. Agent Director...um, no.”

He looked around the table for help.

“I usually just call her Aunt Peg,” Sharon offered with a too-helpful expression as she reached for a pastry.

“Aunt--” Clint tried, before realizing what he was saying. “Aw, hell.”

Peggy guffawed with everyone else, but she interrupted the laughter a moment later to say, “I think Granny Peg would be appropriate, dear.”

Steve shot her a look.

“What?” she returned. “That’s what my grandchildren called me. Or they did before Anthony helped me fake my death.”

 _Which was more unbelievable?_ Steve wondered. The fact that this gorgeous young woman sitting next to him had grandchildren, or the fact that, as a woman in her nineties, she had talked Tony into searching for some top-secret S.H.I.E.L.D. formula and then helping her get declared legally dead so she could spend her next lifetime with Steve?

Actually, nevermind. He fully believed Peggy could talk anybody into anything, regardless of her age or state of mind.

“Clint, darling,” she shot across the table again. “I hope you’re as good with a handgun as you are with that bow.”

Oh, so that’s what this was about. Steve didn’t know why he was surprised.

Barton’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “S’not a matter of good. Bow suits me better’n guns. I could outshoot your handgun any day,” he finished, stuffing his mouth with another donut.

A challenge spelled itself across Peggy’s face.

Uh-oh.

“Looks like you’re about to get schooled by your old gran,” Steve joked.

“More like your new gran.” Sharon grinned, and for a split second she looked like a reflection of her great-aunt. “Welcome to the Carter-Rogers family, Hawkeye.”

Clint sputtered.

*

After a spectacular firearms vs. archery showdown that drew every available Avenger to the shooting range, Peggy called it a draw when most of the targets were either falling over or riddled beyond recognition.

Clint’s mouth set in a stubborn line.

“M’not done yet,” he announced, nocking his last arrow. He’d already shown her most of his trick arrows, to her loud admiration, but he’d saved the best for last.

The arrow glanced off the wall (the maintenance staff would have words with him for that, but he was used to it by now), and returned.

As Barton had calculated, Peggy never flinched. The arrow knocked the gun right out of her hand, and both clattered harmlessly to the floor.

“What the hell was that?” she shouted, more impressed than angry.

He shrugged, worrying the back of his head with one hand. “Boomerang arrow.”

“It’s bloody brilliant!”

Before he could stop her, she grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him full on the mouth.

“Mmmmphfffffffmmm…” Clint said.

Her delighted, slightly grimy face was the last thing he saw before he collapsed on the floor next to their abandoned weapons.

As the Avengers began to gather around them in various degrees of amusement and alarm, Peggy looked down at her adopted grandson, hands on her hips.

“Oh shit,” she said, not sounding particularly disappointed. “I didn’t realize I was wearing _that_ brand of lipstick. I meant to save that parlor trick for Anthony.”

Steve came up behind her, placing a loving hand on her waist and gazing at her with pitiful eyes. “What about me?”

“Oh, don’t worry, darling. I would have wiped it off, unless I felt like shutting you up for a while.”

He pretended to look hurt, but she punched his arm. It was so good to have her back.

*

A few weeks later, when Clint returned from his latest trip home, Peggy actually pinched his cheek. Hard.

“And how are my great-grandbabies, dear?” she asked while he grimaced.

“Fine. Brought you these.” He retrieved a few crumpled drawings from his kids from his vest pocket and handed them over, to her loud delight.

Shortly after the lipstick incident, Peggy had pestered Clint about his family until he set up a facetime so she could meet them. She and Laura had a lot in common...and of course the hawklets loved their new Granny Peg.

As she and Steve made over the children’s artwork, Clint massaged his cheek, mumbling greetings to Natasha and Sharon.

“Aw, hi baby Clint!” Natasha grinned wolfishly and made pinching motions close to his face.

He ducked and shoved her hand aside.

“You know, at this point she’s just pushing you to see how much you’ll take,” Sharon said.

“Yep. But I wanna know how far she’ll take it, too. Think she’d buy me a new bow for Christmas?”

Natasha gasped. “You would take advantage of a sweet little old lady?”

“What? It’s what grandmas do.”

“Well,” mused Sharon, “her gifts do tend to be practical from a combat standpoint.”

Clint gestured at Natasha as if to say, “See?” and she rolled her eyes.

Meanwhile, Peggy had stowed away the drawings for safekeeping.

“Oh,” she breathed. “I do miss my grandchildren. It’s been nice to have someone to spoil again.”

Steve, however, was still confused by her unusual new friendship.

“I’d understand Tony,” he began. “He's your godson, after all. Sharon is your actual great-niece. Natasha is right up your alley. Peter’s an actual child and needs all the grandmothering he can get. And Bruce and Sam both have excellent manners. But Barton! Why’d you have to choose him?”

“Well, let’s see.” Peggy looked smug. “He’s a human disaster with a unique taste in weapons. I guess you could say he reminds me of someone.”

When Steve threw her a confused look, she tapped the shield he was holding for clarification.

“That,” Steve announced, “is not a weapon.”

She snorted. “You use it like one often enough. In any case, I suppose I have a type.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

He was heart-stoppingly close, and before she knew it he was cupping her face in his hands, and…

They were interrupted by a chorus of disgusted noises from Clint, Natasha, and Sharon.

Steve threw back his head with annoyance and turned back to face them. “You don’t like the view, go somewhere else.”

“But--” Clint started.

Peggy broke away from Steve long enough to stab a finger in his direction. “That’s enough from you, young man. Show a little respect to your granddad.”

“Aw, Gran.” When he realized what he said, Clint buried his face in his hands as Natasha giggled wildly.

“I guess that’s a no on the new bow for Christmas.” Sharon looked a little smug.

“We’ll see.” Peggy’s eyes glinted even little more mischief than usual. “After all, what else are grannies for?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written very fast, so please forgive plot holes. Bucky is still in Wakanda, but you can bet Peggy's going to adopt him too when he gets back.
> 
> The lipstick part was blatantly stolen from [ here ](http://hawkmemeguy.tumblr.com/post/153473790083/some-days-your-old-teammates-come-back-to-life-and) and [ here. ](http://memequeenpeggycarter.tumblr.com/post/153478201104/i-really-should-label-my-lipstick-better-ill)


End file.
